


rest now

by katierosefun



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Deleted Scenes, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Missing Scene, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Sleepiness, Soft Obi-Wan Kenobi, basically everyone is so soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:22:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25038433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katierosefun/pseuds/katierosefun
Summary: Five times people used Obi-Wan Kenobi as a pillow, and the one time everyone let themselves be Obi-Wan’s pillow.
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Padmé Amidala & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 32
Kudos: 687





	rest now

**1\. Commander Cody**

They were exhausted and battle worn, their armor cracked and coated with the dirt and dust of the battleground, but still, Obi-Wan and Cody stayed standing until the rest of the 212th were evacuated from the site. A bug buzzed somewhere near Obi-Wan’s neck, and he batted it away. The bugs were probably attracted to the sweat and the blood—not his—still dipping into the collar of his tunic.

He couldn’t wait to get off this planet.

He knew he wasn’t the only one.

Obi-Wan had only been working with Cody for a few weeks now, but already, he had grown accustomed to the commander’s demeanor. Quiet and steady, Cody hadn’t so much as faltered at the battles that they had gone into. A part of Obi-Wan worried at that—grew wary at the case with which Cody, along with so many other men, could go into war seemingly without a second thought.

 _Or maybe not completely without a second thought_ , Obi-Wan thought now as the last shuttle dropped in front of Cody and himself. Now that all the 212th had left, Obi-Wan sensed the fractures in Cody’s own mask of calm.

They wordlessly got on the shuttle, the doors shutting out the heat and the bugs. For a moment, all Obi-Wan saw was darkness—and then the lights inside the shuttle flickered on, and then they were taking off, leaving the blasted dusty planet behind.

Obi-Wan let out a breath as the shuttle ascended into the atmosphere. Somewhere up there, he knew that they would get into the cruiser, and then Obi-Wan would probably find Anakin and Ahsoka, probably just as batter-worn from their own share of the fight. Obi-Wan would have to go to the debriefing after checking with his men— _his_ men, something he still couldn’t quite get used to.

A burst of cool air from the shuttle’s ventilation system dried the remaining sweat on Obi-Wan’s face. He swiped an arm over his forehead. A shower. He wouldn’t mind a shower right after the meeting, either, even if the idea of staying awake and upright for any longer than he had to felt like another battle on its own.

But he would bear it, just as he had everything in the last few weeks.

He had only just completed that thought when he felt something drop against his shoulder. Obi-Wan looked down and made out the top of his commander’s helmet. He paused, unsure what exactly to—how exactly would he—

Obi-Wan half-expected Cody to bolt awake, and he angled his head slightly away to avoid the oncoming jerk against his chin—but Cody stayed fast asleep, his breathing deep and even within the helmet.

And Obi-Wan could feel the weariness radiating off his commander, the bone-deep kind of weariness that came with perhaps too many days of fighting and not enough rest.

So Obi-Wan turned back towards to the viewport. He inhaled slowly, so as to not even let his breath disturb Cody’s rest. They would get into the cruiser in a few minutes, anyways. Obi-Wan decided, with a slight, wistful smile on his face, that he would grant his commander these few minutes of peace before the next storm.

**2\. Padmé Amidala**

“Thank you for the meal, Bail,” Obi-Wan said as he helped the senator move the dishes into the kitchen.

“You’re welcome,” Bail replied. He took the plates from Obi-Wan’s hands and jerked his head into the sitting room. “You sit down. Guests aren’t allowed to do the dishes.”

“You know I don’t—”

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t mind— _go_.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, but he lifted his hands in mock surrender before walking out of the kitchen. He found Padmé and Anakin already in the sitting room, their heads bent low near each other’s—and then quickly parting as Obi-Wan made his steps heard.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin said loudly, his face flushed with either the alcohol or something else, Obi-Wan wasn’t entirely sure. Watching Anakin’s eyes dart quickly over to Padmé, Obi-Wan changed his mind. He decided the faint pink in his former apprentice’s face was definitley due to something other than alcohol.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan only replied, sitting down on the couch beside Padmé.

The senator and he exchanged a brief smile, and though Padmé’s face, too, was just a tad brighter than a few minutes before, the senator’s face remained neutral as she said, “I see that Bail finally managed to get you out of the kitchen.”

“He practically chased me out,” Obi-Wan said, ignoring the bark of laughter from the kitchen.

“Well, given your track record, I would think that chasing was a bit necessary,” Padmé replied. “Don’t you think, Anakin?”

“Absolutely,” Anakin replied, and though the color in his face was dying down, Obi-Wan still noticed the shine in Anakin’s eyes as he fixed his attention back on Padmé. It was almost enough for Obi-Wan to start shaking his head right there—really, Anakin was terrible at keeping secrets. Padmé and Anakin _both_ were, but Obi-Wan had neither the capacity nor the desire to protest against their manners.

He briefly wondered if that made him a bad Jedi, quietly turning blind in this moment—but he quickly shoved those thoughts away.

Obi-Wan was relieved when Bail finally walked into the sitting room, glasses in hand. He set them down on the table and passed one automatically to Obi-Wan, and then the conversation slowly turned to talk of politics and home worlds and speeder models and a holodrama that Bail and Padmé had apparently started watching.

Obi-Wan was glad to let the conversation wash over him, glad to just smile and offer the occasional quip or question. He leaned back against the couch, leaving his glass three-quarters of the way drained, his head only slightly buzzing with the alcohol. His whole body felt comfortably warm otherwise, and through his own haze, he noticed that Anakin had only taken a few sips from his own glass. When Anakin caught Obi-Wan looking, he only grinned and mouthed, _driving_.

Obi-Wan smiled and let his head fall back against the couch cushions as the conversation dulled down further, until it was just Bail and Anakin talking—Bail, still very much awake and cheerfully carrying conversation with Anakin about the latest updates on whatever new speeder model had come out.

While Padmé…at some point, Padmé had gone quiet, and only when her head fell on his shoulder did Obi-Wan realize that the senator had fallen asleep. Obi-Wan lifted his head to look first at Anakin and then Bail in silent question, but without even breaking from the conversation, Bail reached over for one of the throw blankets on one of the couches and tossed it to Anakin.

And Anakin, still not breaking from conversation, only heaped the blanket over Padmé’s sleeping form. Obi-Wan managed to catch Anakin’s eyes a second time—and found, with some curiosity, that he felt some strange relief in the smirk Anakin tossed Obi-Wan’s way.

Deciding that he didn’t want to decipher that smirk, Obi-Wan slowly, carefully re-settled back on the couch and only re-adjusted the blanket around Padmé’s shoulders before leaving her to sleep on his shoulder.

**3\. Satine Kryze**

“I should have known you’d be here.” 

Satine lifted her head from her book. Night had completely fallen over Mandalore, the distant lights of the city and the moon being the only source of brightness in the otherwise sleeping planet. A small pool of moonlight encircled Satine now as she stood up, closing her book.

“Obi-Wan,” she said. “I thought you would be sleeping by now.”

Obi-Wan dipped his head towards Satine. “The excitements of the day haven’t quite worn me out, I’m afraid.”

“Ah.” Satine settled the book against her front. She sat back down on the grass. “Care to join me?”

Obi-Wan glanced around the courtyard. He had been in this place before, in the last few days he had on Mandalore, back those years ago. Satine and he had explored some of the courtyards, and this one had been one of their favorites. Smaller than the others, a little more secluded. A pond was somewhere nearby, bubbling with only some of the fish that dared flick their tails above water. A tree swaying with a warm breeze that could only somehow be carried in this section of the palace. With the breeze, Obi-Wan caught the scents of the courtyard: grass, some nighttime flowers, and Satine.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Obi-Wan only asked, walking into the courtyard. He sat down next to Satine, who only gave him a brief smile. “What are you reading?”

She lifted the book. “A childhood favorite of mine,” she replied somewhat wistfully. “Although I’m afraid the story isn’t quite as captivating as it once was. A consequence of no longer being a child, I suppose.”

“Different times, different tastes,” Obi-Wan replied conversationally. He tilted his head towards the book. “I would still like to know what it’s about.”

“Well,” Satine said, handing the book to Obi-Wan, “it’s all rather dramatic, if you must know.”

“Is it now,” Obi-Wan said, amused. The book was lighter than Obi-Wan expected. He could feel the slight wear on the spine, the cover as he flipped it open. The pages were slightly curled with age and years of use.

“It’s about two eventual lovers,” Satine said, a smile curling over her lips. “Separated by a conflict between their own families, although we never learn what exactly that conflict was.” She shrugged, leaning back down against the grass. “An unhappy tale, really.”

Obi-Wan looked down at Satine, at those clear eyes of hers reflecting back the night sky. “How so?”

“Well,” Satine murmured, folding her hands against her stomach, “the lovers both die in the end, although neither had to.” She nodded to the volume in Obi-Wan’s hand. “The girl fakes her death, and thinking that she truly is dead, the boy kills himself. The girl wakes, and upon seeing her lover dead, she kills herself as well.” She turned back up to the sky. “Truly horrible.”

Obi-Wan looked down at the book. “And this was a childhood favorite?”

“Don’t laugh,” Satine said. “I used to think it was romantic. _Used_ to.”

“And now?”

Satine looked at Obi-Wan and laughed. “Now I think it’s rather silly,” she replied. “A tutor of mine once explained that the author might have written this story as a mockery of love rather than a true expression of it. I’m rather inclined to agree.”

“An interesting interpretation,” Obi-Wan said. He flipped over to the first page and, clearing his throat, read, “ _Two households, both alike in dignity_ —”

“What are you doing?” Satine asked, propping herself up on an elbow.

“Well, you said this was a childhood favorite,” Obi-Wan replied lightly. “I might as well see why.”

“ _Obi-Wan_ —”

“As I was saying— _in fair Verona, where we lay our scene_ …”

Satine only huffed and settled back down on the grass. “Impossible,” she said. “That’s what you are.”

“Now, don’t interrupt Duchess, I’m already rather intrigued.”

Satine laughed again, and Obi-Wan made it through the entire prologue before he, too, settled down on the grass beside the duchess. He was aware of how their heads were brushing against each other, the rise and fall of Satine’s chest, the occasional sigh as he read on. He read until his voice was little more than a murmur, and he had read up until the fifth scene of the first act before he felt Satine’s head nestle against the crook between his shoulder and neck.

Obi-Wan’s voice stuttered for a moment, and he looked down to find Satine’s face buried against him, her expression content. She let out a soft sigh, and Obi-Wan took that as a signal to keep reading, his voice growing softer and softer until he was doing little more than just mouthing the words.

But he had completely forgotten about what he was reading, and only when he actually got to the ending did he remember where they were.

Obi-Wan looked down at Satine, still asleep.

He brushed a strand of her hair back. She shivered a little, the rest of her face disappearing into Obi-Wan’s neck.

Obi-Wan smiled. “You’re right, my dear,” he said quietly. “That was a horrible ending.”

**4\. Ahsoka Tano**

“I just don’t understand,” Ahsoka huffed from across the table. She was clicking through documents on the computer, her eyes already glazed from the screen. “Master Skywalker agrees that I learn better on the field than I do with these lessons.”

“I’m sure he does,” Obi-Wan murmured, adjusting the brightness on the computer screen. The Archives had gotten considerably darker, and though the lights adjusted accordingly, the computers unfortunately did not. Obi-Wan’s eyesight wasn’t getting any better, either. He swiped a hand across his eyes before re-focusing on the screen.

“I just don’t understand,” Ahsoka repeated. “We’re fighting a _war_. Why do I need to know about this stuff? It’s not like a droid is going to ask me to recite philosophy before shooting me.”

“Padawan.”

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” Ahsoka asked, ducking her head around the computer. She blinked with comical innocence at Obi-Wan. And Obi-Wan only shook his head. A part of him wanted to smile—Ahsoka reminded him so much of Anakin in some ways, especially with that cheerful look she gave him now. But another part of him couldn’t help but feel a kick to his chest—there was something so incredibly strange and wrong about hearing a child so casually talk of being targeted on the battlefield.

Then again, the war had changed what childhood meant for so many, and the Jedi were not exempt from such changes.

“Focus on your studies,” Obi-Wan only said, looking back at his computer. Ignoring Ahsoka’s groan, Obi-Wan added, “You may not need to recite philosophy for a droid, but you will need to sharpen all parts of your mind.”

“My mind’s already sharpened,” Ahsoka mumbled.

“Then sharpen it more.”

Ahsoka groaned again, but she didn’t argue. The evening sounds of the Archives slowly filled the long room: the rustle of robes and cloaks, the scrape of chairs being pushed out or pushed in, the buzz of the lamps, the whir of a droid somewhere down the hall.

Obi-Wan had lost himself in the near-silence of the Archives before he suddenly became aware that Ahsoka was no longer clicking or typing on her computer.

“Ahsoka?” Obi-Wan called, ducking around the computer.

And he found Ahsoka with her head resting against a propped-up hand, lips slightly parted against her palm.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself. He glanced out the windows, knowing even before he found the dark sky that night had completely fallen. They had been in the Archives for many hours now, and frankly, despite Ahsoka’s complaining, the girl had lasted longer than Obi-Wan had figured she would. That would be something Obi-Wan would have to tell Anakin once he got back from his mission.

Obi-Wan pushed himself out of his chair and after shutting off his own computer, made his way around to Ahsoka’s side.

A few books were still scattered around the computer, some half-open, others with pages still fluttering against some phantom breeze. Obi-Wan closed those books and pushed them to the side, stacking them neatly by the organization system the Archives called for. Then he leaned across the desk to shut down Ahsoka’s computer. He found the philosophy text still up on the screen. Ahsoka had gotten through perhaps three-quarters of the way before falling asleep. Which was impressive, Obi-Wan figured, for someone who so clearly hated philosophy.

Obi-Wan shut off the computer and looked down at Ahsoka. She was still asleep, her hand still holding up her head.

“Ahsoka,” Obi-Wan said quietly, resting a hand on her shoulder. He shook it once, just enough for Ahsoka to stir. “Perhaps you should sleep in a more comfortable place.”

Ahsoka, her eyes glazed over with sleep, only blinked owlishly at Obi-Wan. She rubbed a fist over her eyes, and Obi-Wan became painfully aware of how young she truly was. Fourteen years old—still a little older than most younglings who became Padawans, but still unbearably young for someone about to be launched into a war.

“Okay,” Ahsoka murmured, and she started up from her chair, only to plop right back down, eyes already fluttering shut. “’m tired.” Her voice was small, plaintive—a tone that Obi-Wan had not heard Ahsoka use ever.

“Here,” Obi-Wan said, and gently, he tugged Ahsoka up by the wrists. “To your quarters now.” He directed themselves away from the desks, but before he could fully get them to the main corridor of the Archives, Ahsoka’s head bumped against Obi-Wan’s chest, her eyes still closed.

“Ahsoka—”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ahsoka mumbled, stepping backwards. She blinked a few more times, crashing against the back of one of the chairs. “Sorry.”

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be concerned. “Are you alright?”

“’m fine,” Ahsoka said, rubbing her fist over her eyes again. “Just…” She took a small step away from the chair, towards Obi-Wan—and stumbled again.

Tired—she must have been more tired than she had been letting on, Obi-Wan noted as Ahsoka sat back down on the chair, her head resting against its back. Another pang went through Obi-Wan’s chest. The girl held much of her strength like a shield around herself everyone carried a shield around themselves these days, Jedi and non-Jedi alike—and now, apparently, the young as well as the old.

Obi-Wan sighed. Then, sinking down in front of Ahsoka, he guided her arms around his shoulders, found the back of her legs and hoisted themselves up.

Ahsoka’s head bobbed against Obi-Wan’s shoulder, her hands dangling in front of him.

“Master?” Ahsoka mumbled, her feet knocking lightly against the sides of Obi-Wan’s legs. “What’re you…”

“We can’t have you stumbling around the halls, now, can we?” Obi-Wan only said. He swiveled his back just enough to give Ahsoka a small smile. “Rest, young one.”

Ahsoka hummed a little, her head falling against Obi-Wan’s shoulder once more.

And Obi-Wan carried Ahsoka all the way back to her quarters.

**5\. Anakin Skywalker**

“Have you seen Anakin?”

“He was by the cliffs, sir,” Rex replied, gesturing back to where a cluster of troopers still stood. Obi-Wan stood up and, narrowing his eyes, he indeed spotted the one spot of black clothing, and then the bright flash of a blue saber.

“What is he _doing_?” Obi-Wan asked, more to himself than to Rex.

“Leading the sweep on the last few droids,” Rex replied. “I only just came back from my half of the sweep.”

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at that still-swinging slash of blue. “He’s hurt,” he said.

“I tried to tell him,” Rex said.

Obi-Wan gave Rex a dry smile. “I’m sure you did, Captain,” he replied. “Not to worry—Anakin tends to be stubborn.”

Rex smiled back, but it quickly faded as the two men turned their attention back on Anakin. “If he’s hurt, then—”

“Not to worry,” Obi-Wan repeated, already swinging down from the low platform. He looked up to Rex. “Just be prepared when I finally bring him back. Make sure Kix is available.”

“Yes, sir,” Rex replied, and he hurried off in a flash of white and blue.

Which left Obi-Wan to Anakin.

He turned around and made his way through the battle-worn grounds, pointedly walking around droid parts and fallen blasters. The closer he walked, the louder Anakin’s lightsaber and the other troopers’ blaster fire became until even the sounds of the bugs and the other critters of the planet were drowned out by the action.

Obi-Wan found Anakin quickly. Hair plastered to the back of his neck, face pale but eyes and cheeks bright, a confident swagger in his step even when clearly injured—Anakin was the glowing image of the Hero with No Fear that Chancellor Palpatine had instilled for the Republic. The image and the title didn’t sit well with Obi-Wan—he barely liked the title instilled on him ( _The Negotiator_ , as though he were a character in a story), but looking at Anakin’s bold movements and bright smile, Obi-Wan could understand where at least his former apprentice’s new title came from.

“That’s the last of them, boys!” Anakin said now, just as Obi-Wan heard the dull clatter of what he could have only assumed was the destroyed battle droids. Obi-Wan felt both relief and pride radiating off the cluster of troopers, off Anakin.

And then Anakin’s eyes found Obi-Wan’s, and he grinned, shutting off his lightsaber. “You’re a little late for the party, Master,” he said. “We’ve taken care of it.”

“Yes, I can tell,” Obi-Wan said. “Well done.” He weaved through the troopers until he reached Anakin at last. Up this close, Obi-Wan could make out the individual beads of sweat rolling down the side of Anakin’s face, his neck. The slight heave of his chest as he tried to keep his breathing even. Obi-Wan flicked his gaze down to Anakin’s side. Even without touching him, he could sense the damage done.

Anakin’s eyes followed Obi-Wan’s, the smile fading from his face. He subtly moved away, clipping his lightsaber to his side. “Right,” he said loudly. “Back to the ships, men.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

Obi-Wan waited until the troopers had all left before saying, “You should know better.”

“I’m fine,” Anakin said automatically, but now that the troopers were gone, Obi-Wan could hear the slight strain in his friend’s voice. “It’s not even _that_ bad.” He took a few steps forward—shuffled, more like, and that was when Obi-Wan knew that the situation was much worse than he had originally thought.

“Anakin, wait—”

But Anakin was sliding down from the ledge, and for a moment, he stayed upright.

Obi-Wan slipped down the ledge next to Anakin just as he started swaying, one hand reaching for his side.

“Anakin—”

Anakin’s face tightened as he leaned back against the rock ledge. Obi-Wan reached for Anakin automatically, catching him by the arm just as Anakin started to slide down. “Probably shouldn’t have…done that,” Anakin ground out through clenched teeth.

“You shouldn’t have,” Obi-Wan agreed, winding an arm gingerly around Anakin’s side. Though he kept his own touches light, he felt the flare of pain underneath—fractured ribs. Multiple. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply.

“It’s not that bad,” Anakin mumbled, but the reediness in his voice suggested otherwise. “I can walk back.”

“Clearly, you can’t,” Obi-Wan replied. “I can call Kix—he’ll bring a stretcher.”

Anakin let out a breath, sinking directly into Obi-Wan’s side—which was another sure sign that the injuries must have been more painful than usual, because Anakin _never_ gave himself away, not like this. So Obi-Wan only re-adjusted his grip on Anakin and suggested, “We should sit down first.”

Anakin nodded mutely, and with that, the two settled back down on the dirt.

“Kix,” Obi-Wan said into his comm.

“Yes, General.”

“General Skywalker is injured,” Obi-Wan said as Anakin’s head lolled against his shoulder. Obi-Wan glanced over at Anakin. His eyes were drifting shut, whether from the pain or exhaustion, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure. All the same, Obi-Wan’s chest tightened as a shudder ran through Anakin’s body. “We will need a stretcher.”

“Yes, General.”

With that, Obi-Wan turned towards Anakin. His former apprentice’s eyes were completely closed now, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Obi-Wan could feel the damp of Anakin’s hair, his warm breath against his skin.

And then Anakin’s head rolled past Obi-Wan’s shoulder, causing both Obi-Wan and Anakin to startle.

“Sorry,” Anakin mumbled, opening his eyes. “I didn’t—” He started to move upright but stopped mid-motion, a low groan leaving his lips.

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan said, setting a hand on Anakin’s shoulder. Anakin relaxed under Obi-Wan’s hand. “Rest.”

Anakin huffed out a breath. “You’re never going to let me hear the end of this, are you?”

“Never,” Obi-Wan replied with a brief smile. He guided Anakin towards himself. “It might do you better to lie down with your ribs the way they are. It’ll make getting on the stretcher easier as well.”

Anakin huffed out another breath—one that sounded more like a laugh, but he managed a small nod. He started to lower himself to the ground, wincing at even that slight movement. Obi-Wan kept his hand on Anakin’s shoulder, murmuring encouragements until Anakin’s head was right on Obi-Wan’s lap.

“You’re definitley not going to let me hear the end of this,” Anakin mumbled, his eyes already closing.

“No,” Obi-Wan agreed, resting his head against the rock ledge. He saw troopers still hustling on the platform in the distance, and above that, the now darkening sky. Obi-Wan saw some stars glimmer into existence—just the earliest, brightest ones as the sun’s last yellow rays hushed themselves over the horizon.

Obi-Wan heard a small sigh, and when he looked down, he found that Anakin’s eyes had closed completely.

Obi-Wan smiled to himself, brushing back a strand of still-damp hair from Anakin’s forehead. And then he looked back up at the darkening sky, where he found two bright stars winking down at him.

**+1.**

It was a universally known fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi needed sleep.

Which was why today, everyone was staring at Obi-Wan Kenobi like he had just grown a pair of wings, because he was asleep. And sleeping on Commander Cody’s shoulder, no less.

Cody only stared at the rest of the troopers in front of him in silent panic. But they only watched with mild amusement as the gunship landed down on Coruscant. The flight had been smooth, thankfully, and perhaps it being too smooth had been the reason why the general of the 212th had chosen that specific time to doze off.

Not that Cody necessarily _minded_. It was no secret that Kenobi was exhausted, and they had been running operations for seemingly weeks on end. This temporary leave had come as a relief to all.

Still, Cody wasn’t sure _what exactly he was supposed to do_ , now that Obi-Wan was at his shoulder. Cody expected that the man would wake soon, probably jerk up the minute the gunship doors opened, but he did nothing of the sort. Cody wasn’t sure if that made him relieved or not. Because on the one hand, the general truly did need his sleep, but on the other—

“Got something there, Cody?”

Cody only gestured a finger to his lips as a signal to keep Rex’s voice down.

But the captain only grinned. “How’d that happen?” he asked, nodding at Obi-Wan, still fast asleep.

“I don’t know,” Cody replied quietly, not trusting himself to raise his voice any louder without waking the general. “Should I…” He glanced down at Obi-Wan, and then glanced back at Rex. “I don’t know if I should wake him.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Rex replied. “He probably needs the rest.” He looked over his shoulder, and Cody followed the captain’s gaze to where a few senators were speaking amongst each other. They technically didn’t have to be there—Cody knew that they only came to boost morale, but still, he saw a semi-familiar face amongst that small group.

“Senator Amidala is a friend of his,” Rex said. “I’m sure she could help.”

Before Cody could say anything else, Rex walked away and returned with the warm-eyed senator.

“Commander,” Padmé said, tilting her head in a nod.

“Senator,” Cody replied. He didn’t really know the senator, but the minute Padmé smiled at Obi-Wan, Cody decided that he trusted her.

“I see you’re in a bit of a situation,” Padmé said.

“Not a situation, Senator,” Cody replied. “Not too much trouble.”

“Yes,” Padmé said, amused. “I see.” She looked backwards, nodding to where a speeder waited. “I’m about to head back to the Senate Building—and that’s a bit closer to the Temple from here. I would be glad to take him there.”

“We wouldn’t want to trouble—”

“It’s no trouble, Commander,” Padmé said, that smile of hers returning.

Cody exchanged a look with Rex, who just shrugged.

“If you say so, Senator,” Cody said, and with that, Padmé came around to Obi-Wan’s other side. Again, Cody expected Obi-Wan to wake, but he didn’t so much as stir as Padmé wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. The warm weight of Obi-Wan’s head left Cody’s shoulder, and Padmé nodded once again to Cody and Rex.

“Have a nice day, gentlemen,” she said, and then she turned, supporting Obi-Wan to the speeder.

And Padmé, like Cody, didn’t terribly mind the fact that Obi-Wan was leaning against her, nor did she terribly mind Obi-Wan’s head on her shoulder as she started up the speeder. He only stirred awake at the grumble of the speeder, his eyes blinking open briefly.

“Where…” he started to murmur, but then he blinked at his surroundings: the blurring skyscrapers of Coruscant, the glow of the lights both above and below. And then, clearly reassured that there was no danger, Obi-Wan dropped his head back against Padmé’s shoulder.

Padmé only laughed quietly to herself, mentally noting the moment as something to tell Anakin later. He probably wouldn’t believe her even if she told him. So Padmé pressed on, taking care not to run into any of the rougher-trafficked lanes. She technically could have been escorted, and that might have made being in a speeder easier, but Padmé had wanted the freedom. And besides, she was grateful for that now.

Only just as the Senate Building came into view, Padmé’s speeder blinked a light to warn her that its fuel was running out.

She murmured a soft curse at the alert. She should have probably checked before taking this speeder out to begin with. She looked up to the Senate Building and then back to the little alert. She probably had just enough fuel to get her to the Senate, but then—

Padmé sighed. She felt Obi-Wan stir at her side, and she stilled, hoping that the man didn’t sense any of her own annoyance at the speeder. So she steered her speeder all the way to the platform of the Senate Building, her mind already running with possibilities of exactly who to notify about the empty fuel tank when she saw a familiar flash of blue from the distance.

“Duchess,” Padmé said, lifting her head, careful to still not wake Obi-Wan.

“Senator,” Satine said, stopping short in front of the speeder. If the guards behind Satine or the duchess herself found something strange about the fact that Obi-Wan Kenobi was sleeping on Padmé’s shoulder, they didn’t show it. Well—the guards didn’t show it. Padmé didn’t miss the way Satine’s eyes softened at the sight of Obi-Wan, nor did Padmé miss the slight flicker of concern across the duchess’ face. “Did something—”

“He’s fine,” Padmé said quickly. “Just tired. He fell asleep.” She gave Satine an embarrassed smile. “I meant to return him to the Temple, but it seems my speeder’s not quite up for the challenge.” She gave her speeder a rueful pat on the controls before asking, “Would you mind…”

“Of course not,” Satine said. “I was just about to go for a drive around the city, anyways.”

“Wonderful,” Padmé said, relieved. She started to rise from the speeder, but this time, Obi-Wan awoke, his eyes prying open fully.

A few awkward moments passed before Obi-Wan asked, “What happened?”

“You fell asleep,” Padmé said simply. “You were with Cody, and I offered to take you to the Temple, only my speeder…” She grimaced and turned to Satine. “Luckily, Duchess Satine was willing to help.”

Obi-Wan only blinked a few times, still clearly trying to escape the throes of a deep sleep. “I wouldn’t want to trouble anyone,” he said, swiping a hand over his eyes. “Really, I’m…” He started to get out of the speeder, but not before his foot got caught on something. Padmé pulled him back before he could fall on his face.

“Yes, of course, Master Jedi,” Padmé said, ignoring the wounded look Obi-Wan threw her way. “Duchess?”

“Of course,” Satine said, and she stepped forward, extending a hand towards Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan looked down at Satine’s hand warily and then, taking it, he stepped out of the speeder. Padmé didn’t miss the slight flush creeping up Obi-Wan’s cheeks, nor did she miss the identical shade of pink creeping up Satine’s own face. Padmé happily decided that perhaps the speeder running out of fuel was a good thing instead.

“Good night, Duchess, Master Kenobi!” Padmé called.

Satine only tossed Padmé a smile over her shoulder, and then Padmé watched Obi-Wan and Satine start for their own speeder. Satisfied, Padmé hopped down from her speeder and decided to make a call about refilling the fuel tank.

In the meantime, Satine guided Obi-Wan to the speeder, and the two settled in the backseat as the guards settled in the front. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke, not as the speeder rumbled to life. Satine kept her eyes ahead, focusing instead on the glint of the skyscrapers against the setting sun. As the speeder picked up into the air, a warm breeze swept over them.

And then they were off, taking for the Jedi Temple on the other side of the city. Satine let her gaze drift from the skyscrapers to the lines of speeders below her, and then to the sun setting over the horizon. She was all too aware of Obi-Wan’s warmth beside her, the calm of his presence.

Still—Satine needed to be still, even though a part of her was overwhelmingly relieved that he had returned. A senseless war: that was what had somehow tied their paths together again, and Satine wished that the circumstances were different, but at the same time—

She would be returning to Mandalore in a while yet, and she supposed she was grateful for the time they had still.

And suddenly, Satine felt a weight settle on her shoulder.

Satine didn’t dare look down at Obi-Wan as he shifted against her, a soft sigh leaving his lips. Satine only kept her eyes straight ahead, daring her guards to say anything. But they didn’t react, didn’t so much as blink as Obi-Wan turned his face into Satine’s shoulder, his forehead bumping against the base of Satine’s neck.

Satine was selfishly glad that the speeder ride was smooth. A part of her knew that she should probably wake Obi-Wan, probably gently direct him away, but—

Well, that selfish part of her remained.

And only when the speeder landed in front of the Temple did Satine bring herself to stir. She was sorry for it, but then she heard—

“Master Kenobi?”

Satine looked up to find a young girl standing up from the Temple steps, her brows furrowing. The girl looked from Obi-Wan to Satine, her brows furrowing even more, but she ducked her head into a quick bow. “Duchess Kryze.”

 _Ahsoka Tano_ , Satine remembered. She had seen the girl only a few times, mostly accompanying Anakin Skywalker. She couldn’t have been much older than fourteen, fifteen, but she was yet another one of the children involved in the war. But she was a friend of Obi-Wan’s—that much, Satine also knew.

“Good evening,” Satine said, bowing her head. She gestured to Obi-Wan. “Would you know where his quarters are? I was only helping him get to the Temple.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka said, the girl’s lips twitching into a smile. “Is he…” She nodded at Obi-Wan, whose head was starting to slip from Satine’s shoulder.

“He was only sleeping,” Satine replied, gently bringing Obi-Wan’s head up to keep him from slipping entirely. “Nothing more than that.”

“Master Kenobi, sleeping?” Ahsoka asked, eyes widening. Then, quieter, “That’s a first.”

Satine decided that she liked this girl. She smiled, and Ahsoka smiled back.

“Don’t worry, Duchess,” she said. “I’ll make sure he gets his way around.”

“Thank you,” Satine replied, as the guard opened the speeder door. And with careful hands, Satine guided Obi-Wan over to Ahsoka. For one so small, the girl surprisingly kept both Obi-Wan and herself steady, even as she stepped themselves away from the speeder.

“I’m Ahsoka, by the way,” the girl said. “Ahsoka Tano.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ahsoka Tano,” Satine replied. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Duchess,” Ahsoka said cheerfully. And then she waved as the speeder started up, and Satine waved back until the Temple was out of her line of vision.

And when the speeder had disappeared, Ahsoka, too, turned around. She readjusted her grip around Obi-Wan’s side. She looked over at the man’s face and couldn’t help but laugh to herself. She wished she could take a picture. But she supposed she would just have to settle with memorizing this moment instead, everything from the nearly-darkened sky to the rustle of their clothes to Obi-Wan’s quiet sounds of protest as they walked through the halls.

The cool of air from the Temple rushed over them both, and Obi-Wan shivered slightly beside Ahsoka. She only adjusted his cloak around himself before walking on, nodding casually to some passing younglings. She couldn’t help but smile at their temporary awe and also disbelief at seeing Ahsoka supporting Obi-Wan through the halls. A sight, she was sure.

Ahsoka guided Obi-Wan’s arm over her shoulders for better support as they rounded a corner. Obi-Wan stirred lightly then, mumbling, “’soka—”

“That’s right,” Ahsoka said, rolling her shoulders. “You’re a lot heavier than you look, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan started to shift against Ahsoka, but she only said, “We’re almost to your quarters, though.”

A small sound of disbelief. “When…”

“Just a little while ago,” Ahsoka replied, keeping her voice nonchalant. “Duchess Kryze dropped you off.” She paused, giving her next words only a second of consideration before adding, “You were sleeping on her shoulder.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes fluttered open at that. “Was…”

“Oh, she didn’t seem to mind,” Ahsoka replied. She saw Obi-Wan’s door in the distance. She patted Obi-Wan’s arm twice in some reassurance as she added, “I think she was actually smiling. I think she’s nice.”

Obi-Wan only mumbled something that Ahsoka couldn’t quite make out—which was impressive, considering she was right under Obi-Wan’s mouth. “Anyways,” Ahsoka continued as they came closer to the door, “I’m glad that you got some sleep, Master. You looked exhausted.” She managed to break her hand away enough to wave open the door.

They ducked into Obi-Wan’s quarters—only it wasn’t empty.

“Is he okay?” Anakin asked, jumping up from the desk. “I got a call from Rex that—”

“He’s just tired,” Ahsoka said, disentangling Obi-Wan’s arm from her shoulder. Obi-Wan swayed a little, but then Anakin was at Obi-Wan’s other side, catching him by the shoulder. “ _Really_ tired. I don’t even think he’s actually awake right now.”

Anakin looked down at Obi-Wan, who only blinked wearily up at him.

Anakin smiled. “Well, look at that,” he said, and Obi-Wan sighed, resting his head against Anakin’s shoulder.

“I’ve got it from here, Snips,” Anakin said, looking at Ahsoka. “I’ll make sure he actually stays asleep.”

“Sounds good,” Ahsoka said, grinning. Then, whispering, she added, “Good night, Master Kenobi!”

And then she was gone, the door sliding shut behind her.

So Anakin settled both Obi-Wan and himself on the bed. Careful not to let Obi-Wan slide forward, Anakin slipped off Obi-Wan’s boots, unfastened the armor. All the while, Obi-Wan remained asleep, only mumbling only the occasional complaint.

Anakin only smiled to himself, setting the boots and the armor down on the ground. “Look at that,” he repeated. “You _can_ sleep.”

“I can hear you,” Obi-Wan mumbled against Anakin’s shoulder.

Anakin settled an arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “I was counting on it,” he said quietly. He gave Obi-Wan’s shoulder a quick squeeze, and then he slid away, guiding Obi-Wan’s head back to an actual pillow. He heard a sigh, and then Anakin brought the blankets over his former master, letting it settle right over Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

Obi-Wan’s eyes opened just a little, the deep grey-blue shining up at Anakin in the otherwise dim room. “I should finish the reports,” he only mumbled.

“Don’t even think about it,” Anakin said, settling down on the floor next to Obi-Wan’s bed. He rested his head back against the mattress. “Just go to sleep, Obi-Wan.”

\--

Obi-Wan slept.

**Author's Note:**

> tbh I thought this was going to be a 2K word fic just born out of one of my brief tumblr rants, but then,,,then this happened. (I just want Obi-Wan to be soft and happy. @ Dave Filoni is that too much to ask?) 
> 
> As always, comments/kudos are greatly appreciated!


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